To the Skies!
by Giannoulias
Summary: Ezreal's birthday is around the corner, and Lux needs a huge batch of desserts baked for it. It's a big job, but luckily Morgana isn't without a helper! In progress, chapter 2 still in the works. Rating will change. Oh yes.


"I have gathered you all here for a very urgent matter," Lux said gravely from the head of the long table. A dozen or so of her fellow champions sat in chairs around the table in the meeting room where she had invited them all. Caitlyn's fingers drummed against the tabletop; Vi's chin rested on her hand, eyes periodically sliding shut until she snapped them back open; Miss Fortune stifled a yawn. Taric was the only one with his eyes trained on Lux, fingers politely laced together on the surface of the table. She had been prattling on about some irrelevant detail of her day for nearly thirty minutes and had only just gotten to the apparent central matter of the meeting, but her guests were already bored to tears.

"As I'm sure you are all aware," Lux continued, unaware of her audience's inattention, "next Saturday is a very important occasion indeed. It is, in fact, Ezreal's birthday." She paused, waiting for her statement to take effect. When no one responded, she assumed they were all absorbing the gravity of the situation rather than struggling to stay alert, and carried on. "This means that we have just over one week to prepare for it."

"Prepare for what?" asked a half-asleep Jayce.

"For his party, of course!" Lux snapped.

Suddenly, everyone was fully awake, and no one seemed to know how to respond. The stunned silence seemed to last years before Vi finally spoke.

"You're joking, right?" she scoffed. "Ezreal hates parties. Why the hell would you throw him a party?"

"He does not hate parties," growled Lux. "He just thinks he does because he's never been to a good party." Suddenly, Lux's expression was bright and cheery again. "But next Saturday, that will change, because you're all going to help me throw him a super duper spectacular party!"

"So," a voice from the other end of the table suddenly said. Everyone turned to look at Morgana as she continued, "Why exactly am I here?"

Everyone in the room was acquainted with Ezreal in some way - friends, residents of Piltover, lovers and ex-lovers, stalker - except Morgana. In fact, she had never even spoken to the boy; he struck her as haughty and irritating and reminded her of her sister - the type of person she avoided associating with. As such, Morgana was definitely the odd one out of the group.

"You're the best baker in all of Valoran," Lux cooed with a saccharine smile. "I wouldn't dream of asking anyone else to bake Ezreal's cake!"

Morgana raised an eyebrow. "And why, pray tell, would I bake Ezreal's cake?"

"I've already said," huffed Lux, "because it's his birthday next week!"

Morgana massaged her forehead with her thumb and forefinger. Today was the first day of her free week, and it had been a long day indeed - fourteen matches in a row, nearly every one of which had been a loss because of the low-level summoners who had chosen her to represent them on the Fields of Justice. As a result, she had experienced simulated death over two hundred times, and she was completely exhausted. _Stay calm_, she willed herself. _It's not the poor girl's fault she was born with an empty skull and the most annoying laugh to ever befall my ears. It's not her fault that your day has been rough, either. Just be patient_. "I understand that, Luxanna," Morgana said slowly, "but you misunderstand me. I already know why you need a cake baked; I am asking you why I should bake it."

Lux cocked her head to the side. "What?" she inquired. Morgana resisted the urge to lunge across the table and strangle her. Then she realized that while she would love to crush Lux's dream of making Ezreal fall in love with her, she would much rather see the horrified look on the explorer's face when he showed up to his own completely unwanted party. Without Morgana to bake the cake, the party would probably not come to fruition. Besides, she really did enjoy baking, so it would be good practice for herself if nothing else.

"Never mind," sighed Morgana. "Just...fine, I'll do it."

"Yippee!" Lux squealed, and Morgana cringed. "I knew you would! Okay, so I need one big round layer cake, chocolate of course, plus a bunch of cupcakes to feed all of the other champions at the Institute, and oh, make sure the frosting is strawberry, that's his favorite! And don't forget the sprinkles! Oh, we'll need some cookies, too, everyone loves cookies! Chocolate chip, of course. Like, ew, are there even any other kinds? I don't understand people who like oatmeal raisin or macaroons or nasty sugar cookies or even -"

"Alright, I get it," snarled Morgana. "I'll have everything ready by next Saturday. Can I leave now?"

Lux looked slightly taken aback. "Don't you want to hear about the rest of the party plans?"

"No, not really," Morgana replied listlessly. She had already stood up and was moving toward the door of the meeting room, tattered wings and a dozen pairs of eyes following her as she went. She turned the knob and clicked open the door, and at last she was free.

What a nightmare that had been. Certainly, there were much more horrific things Morgana could have spent the better part of an hour enduring - she should know, since she had sampled some of them herself. However, listening to Lux's voice was not very far from the top of the fallen angel's list, and she was quite glad for it to be over with. Her bare feet padded softly across the stone floor as she carried herself back to her quarters. Morgana passed no one along the way, but didn't waste any time on wondering where everyone was, as the answer was not only irrelevant to her life, but completely obvious. It was nearly dinner time, so the champions who hadn't recently been summoned were probably convening in the mess hall. The corridors connecting the champion lodgings to the meeting rooms were not often traversed by summoners, so she didn't wonder about their whereabouts either. She merely enjoyed the long, lonely journey and thought only of the relaxing evening she would have when she got home.

Morgana stepped into the Noxus wing of the Institute of War and continued on to her own black door. She produced a black key from a hidden pocket on her long skirt and with it, she entered her abode. As always, the faint scent of something floral lingered in the warm air. The purple curtains were wide open, but as the sun faded below the horizon, it no longer cast its glow upon the crimson painted walls on which several colorful tapestries hung. Morgana didn't bother turning on any lights, though. She treaded across the dark violet carpet, passing her black walnut coffee table and black leather sofa and heading down the hallway. She arrived at the bathroom door and stepped inside, having resolved to take a nice, hot bath before bed.

Morgana's bathroom was her sanctuary. She knew her way around it by touch, so rather than waste energy by turning on the lights, she got out some matches from a cabinet above the sink and used them to light a few candles she kept on the back of the toilet. Then she plugged the bathtub drain and turned the water on full blast so it could heat up.

Morgana slipped her skirt down over her hips and allowed it to crumple to the floor. Then she reached back, undid the fastening on her top, and allowed that to fall as well. Next to go were her headband and vambraces. She roughly pulled her fingers through her hair to get the tangles out, then got a large jar of purple gel out from under the sink._ Draven-Approved Magic Growth Jelly_, the label read. _Grow anything FAST! From fringe to facial hair, feathers to fur, NOTHING is out of your reach with this potent jelly! For best results, apply daily to roots and leave on for at least 30 minutes._

She screwed off the lid and wrinkled her nose at the smell. No matter how many times Morgana used the stuff, she never got used to it. It didn't seem to be working, either - her wings seemed to be in the same tattered state they'd been in since...well, for a long time. _I probably just need to give it more time_, Morgana thought. She'd only been using it for a couple of weeks, after all.

She dipped her hand into the jar, gathering a glob of the sticky substance onto her fingertips, and massaged it gently onto the bases of her feathers. A few minutes later, her wings were covered in purple gel and the room was full of steam, signaling that Morgana's bath was ready. She washed her hands, put away the jar of gel, and turned off the tub faucet. She stuck her foot into the hot water and, satisfied with the temperature, lowered the rest of her body in, being careful to keep her wings elevated.

Morgana's sore muscles began to relax immediately upon contact with the heat, and her eyes slid shut involuntarily. She forced them open briefly to glance at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. _30 minutes_, she noted mentally, _starting now_. Once more, her eyes closed. She focused on just allowing the water to relieve the tension in her body, not thinking about anything else, not thinking about Ezreal or Lux or baking or losing matches. Just relaxing.

However, it soon became apparent that Morgana's body had other matters it wanted to attend to. She shifted in the tub, refusing to open her eyes as she tried to subdue the urge, but the fact remained that every inch of her was encased in pleasant warmth. Morgana released a long, resigned sigh. _Why not? I've earned it, haven't I?_ She allowed her mind to wander behind her closed eyelids as both her hands slipped beneath the surface of the water.

* * *

The next week seemed to drag on and fly by at the same time. The rush to summon Morgana had not subsided as the week went on, and so her days were filled with back to back matches, nearly all of which ended in death after death and finally defeat. And so it went until the bittersweet arrival of Friday - Morgana's day off, which she would be using this week to do all of Lux's stupid baking.

She awoke sore and poorly rested that morning, and it was several minutes before she could convince herself to get out of bed. But finally, with a determined sigh, Morgana managed to throw the covers off and force her feet over the edge. After donning her Sinful Succulence uniform, she spent the rest of the morning scurrying around her apartment, gathering pans and spatulas and bowls and spoons and her trusty balloon whisk. She chucked all her equipment into an enormous black cloth bag along with a pair of oven mitts, slapped her baker's hat onto her head, and just barely remembered to lock her apartment before heading for the kitchens. When she saw the clock on the wall in the main corridor, she gasped aloud.

_Where has the time gone_? wondered Morgana, quickening her pace. It was past eleven o'clock already! She had barely ten hours before the kitchens would close. She silently cursed Lux for dumping this responsibility on her and cursed Ezreal for ever being born and having a stupid birthday and cursed her wretched sister for forcing her to join the League in the first place and cursed herself for not waking up earlier. In fact, Morgana was so busy cursing everybody and power-walking down the hallway that she didn't notice someone had crossed her path until they collided.

Pans and spatulas and bowls and spoons and Morgana's trusty balloon whisk flew everywhere as she lost her grip on her bag and nearly toppled to the floor herself. But instead of cold stone, she felt a pair of strong arms beneath her, and she was suddenly looking up into a pair of sparkling cerulean eyes.

"Sorry to run into you like this," said Jayce with a warm chuckle. His teeth were blinding. "I could make any number of jokes right now about catching a fallen angel, but you don't look like you're in the mood for any of them."

Morgana scowled as Jayce carefully set her back on her feet. Now, not only did she have to pick up all of her spilled cooking equipment and rush down to the kitchens to finish all the baking, but a painful throbbing had started up behind the skin of her forehead where it had collided with Jayce's collar bone. Fantastic.

"You're right," Morgana sneered, "I'm not." She knelt and picked up the closest item, a large mixing bowl, and then she began gathering utensils and piling them into it.

"Oh, hey," said Jayce, immediately kneeling beside her, "let me help you with that."

"I can handle it," protested Morgana, but Jayce had already grabbed the black bag off the floor and was placing a cupcake tin inside it.

"It's really no trouble," Jayce assured her. He was already making short work of the mess. "Besides," he continued, "it would make me feel better about almost knocking you over."

Morgana felt a twinge of guilt as Jayce flashed her a winsome smile. "I'm the one who ran into you," she muttered as she continued gathering objects into her bowl..

"I wasn't paying attention either," Jayce replied. He held out his oversized hand; the bowl Morgana held was the last item to be put in the bag. He was certainly determined to take the blame for their collision. Despite being in a less-than-cheerful mood, Morgana definitely did not feel up to arguing with Jayce, so she reluctantly relinquished the bowl to him.

To her surprise and dismay, he did not give her the bag after he had placed the bowl inside. Instead, he slung it over his shoulder and headed down the hallway.

"Excuse me," Morgana huffed indignantly, bustling after him, "what exactly do you think you're doing?"

Jayce smirked over his shoulder as he continued to stroll down the hallway. "This bag is pretty heavy, so I decided to carry it for you."

Morgana was momentarily speechless. _Man, what I look like, a charity case? How dare he pity me! How dare he assume I needed assistance and help me without being asked!_

"While I appreciate your concern," Morgana said sarcastically, quickening her pace to match his long strides, "I am perfectly capable of carrying my bag on my own."

"That's certainly true," Jayce commented sincerely, "but I still don't feel I've fully made up for spilling your equipment everywhere."

There was that twinge of guilt again. Morgana knew the collision had been her fault. Even if neither of them were hurt and picking up the mess hadn't taken very much time, even if his excessive politeness was straining her last nerve, she did not feel comfortable allowing Jayce to feel responsible for what was not his fault. However, since he seemed determined not to let her convince him otherwise, she would just have to convince him he didn't owe her anything.

"It really isn't such a big deal," insisted Morgana. She reached for the bag, but he deftly transferred it to his other shoulder, moving it out of her reach. A vein pulsed in her forehead.

"Very well then," she snapped, folding her arms across her chest and continuing to walk beside him. "Carry it. See if I care when your arms drop off from exhaustion." Morgana seriously doubted Jayce would have any trouble carrying the sack of cooking equipment, but she didn't understand why he wouldn't just let her carry it herself.

Jayce laughed out loud. "Trust me, this is a bag of feathers compared to my hammer."

"I thought you just said it was heavy?" taunted Morgana. Jayce shrugged and stopped walking. Somehow, they had already arrived at the kitchens. He turned toward her, another radiant grin manifesting itself on his face. Her bag was still securely slung over his shoulder.

"Can I have my bag back now?" Morgana demanded. His smile made her . . . uncomfortable. She couldn't think of a better word to describe her current feeling. Her face was warm and her skin felt tingly, and for some reason it suddenly occurred to her that she had never actually spent this much time talking to one of her fellow champions without them hastily excusing themselves, citing a previous engagement but unable to hide their fear as they scurried away from her.

"Lux sure gave you a lot of baking to do," said Jayce after a moment. He was still holding Morgana's bag.

She knitted her eyebrows in confusion. "What's it to you?"

"Well, I'm sure you're perfectly capable of doing it all yourself," Jayce teased, eyes twinkling, "but I don't have anything else to do, so I thought I'd offer an extra pair of hands, if you want it."

Morgana blinked. Was he serious? He wanted to . . . help her bake? She opened her mouth to snap that no, she did not need any help, thank you very much, but hesitated. She'd taught herself to bake on her own, invented her own recipes by herself, and ran Sinful Succulence alone. She had never baked _with_ anyone before. It occurred to her that Jayce was probably incompetent at baking and would only get in her way, but she decided it would be more funny than irritating to watch him struggle with simple tasks like sifting flour and frosting cupcakes. It certainly wasn't that she wanted to see what it was like to have a partner to bake with, and it was absolutely not because she wanted to spend more time with Jayce.

Morgana was already amusing herself by picturing him failing at cracking eggs, not knowing how to measure liquids, getting batter everywhere while trying to mix it, all over the walls and the ceiling and the flawless skin of his toned chest, highlighting every muscle as it dripped down-

"-rgana?"

Morgana blinked again. She felt her face heat up as she realized she had been staring at Jayce and he was now looking at her curiously.

"I'm sorry, what?" she said, then immediately wanted to kick herself. Her tone had sounded unintentionally apathetic, and Jayce's smile slipped a notch.

"I said, it's okay if you don't need my help," Jayce repeated. "I mean, I can go, if you want-"

"No!" shouted Morgana, causing Jayce to jump slightly. "I mean," she continued, clearing her throat briefly and making sure to keep her tone in check this time, "yes, I could use assistance, if you don't mind."

The Piltovian looked pleasantly surprised at Morgana's sudden change of heart. "Cool," he said as the smile returned to his countenance. Jayce carried Morgana's bag into the kitchen and set it carefully on the floor. She followed him in and stood by, amused, as he had a look around; she had to remind herself that he had never been into the Institute kitchen before. It was a large, well-lit room with white tile floor, white appliances, a white marble counter that ran around the entire room, and dozens of oak cabinets covering every wall.

"Well," sighed Jayce, turning toward Morgana, "I have no idea where anything is, but I'm sure you know this room inside and out." He spread his arms wide and beamed widely. "So, I'm yours to command. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

Morgana smirked at all of the lewd thoughts that immediately jumped into her mind, but she tried her best to suppress them. "You can start by getting the eggs, milk, and butter out of the icebox," she instructed. Jayce nodded and got to it while Morgana began unpacking her bag. The kitchen was so large, she managed to find counter space for everything with plenty of room left over to work with, and in this space she placed the largest mixing bowl she had brought. When she placed it on the counter, Jayce raised an eyebrow.

"That's pretty big," he said.

Morgana snickered. _That's what she said_, she thought. "Yes, well, we are baking six dozen cupcakes plus a layer cake and four dozen cookies," she remarked. "Trust me, we'll need a big bowl."

Again, Jayce nodded. "Right, right," he said. "Of course. So, what do we do first?"

Morgana grabbed a medium-sized bowl and handed it to him. "Put a dozen eggs into this bowl."

"That's a lot of eggs," Jayce said. He took the bowl and placed it on the counter, then reached for the egg carton. "I guess I'd better get cracking," he added with a grin.

Morgana nearly smiled, but caught herself just in time, and turned it into a scowl. "I bet you think you're pretty funny, huh?"

"Actually, yeah, I do," chuckled Jayce. He grabbed an egg from the carton, and Morgana decided to watch. Cracking eggs was not exactly a difficult task, but it did take a bit of practice to be able to do it quickly, and Jayce certainly didn't appear to be someone who spent much of his spare time cracked eggs.

However, to her utter shock, Jayce took an egg in each hand and nimbly cracked both into the bowl at the same time. He tucked both shells back into the carton, not having dropped a single scrap into the bowl, and grabbed two more eggs to begin the process again.

"How - Where - What -" Morgana stammered.

"My mom showed me how to do it when I was younger," Jayce explained, eyes twinkling. As he spoke, he continued his task without missing a beat. "Omelettes were her favorite, so we made them together all the time." He smiled at the memory. Morgana was too enraptured by his skillful display to do anything other than stare, mystified, until he had finished cracking twelve eggs into the bowl. The entire task took him no more than thirty seconds.

"I don't mean to complain," Jayce chuckled, "but I thought the point of me helping was so that we'd get done more quickly." He looked pointedly at Morgana's stationary hands. She scowled.

"Need I remind you who's in charge here?" she snapped, getting back to the stick of butter she had been unwrapping. For the second time in so many minutes, she wanted to kick herself at the unintentional tone her voice had taken, but thankfully Jayce seemed to realize she wasn't actually angry. She was experiencing a strange feeling she couldn't remember ever having felt before, and it was bothering her to no end.

Still, there was work to be done, so Morgana brushed it off and continued preparing ingredients. She turned the oven on, softened the butter in the hexwave (one of Piltover's finest productions, in her opinion - it just made cooking and baking so much easier), and had Jayce mix everything together while she prepared the pans. The industrial-sized oven could easily hold six cupcake pans and more, but Morgana only had four, so they'd have to do it in batches. By the time she was done putting in four dozen paper liners, Jayce had already whisked the batter to a nice, smooth consistency.

"That looks really good," remarked Morgana, genuinely impressed at his quick learning. The two worked together to pour the batter into the pans, and Morgana transferred them to the oven while Jayce put the leftover batter in the icebok. While the first batch baked, it was time to make the cookie dough. Morgana closed the oven and turned around to see Jayce wipe his forehead on his sleeve.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," said Jayce, who Morgana noticed was sweating profusely. "I'm just a little hot, that's all."

_I'll say_, thought Morgana. As she looked him up and down, she noticed something. "You're wearing a lot of layers," she observed. _Did I really just say that out loud? Oh well, it's too late to go back now . . ._ "Maybe you'd be more comfortable if you took some off?"

She held her breath as she waited for Jayce's response. He tapped his chin thoughtfully before replying, "Maybe you're right." And with that, he began carefully undoing the fastenings on his jacket. _Oh god. Don't stare, don't stare, don't stare_, Morgana willed herself. She focused intently on the carton of eggs, memorizing every little detail in the cardboard as she tried to control her breathing, but it was no use; when she brought herself to look at Jayce again, he was down to only his pants and a white sleeveless undershirt. _Oh god, stop staring, you're staring at him, cut it out._

If Jayce noticed Morgana's gawking, he didn't show it. "How do we make the cookie dough?" he asked. She forced herself to make eye contact as she told him which ingredients to measure into another large bowl, but she was unable to keep her eyes off his muscular, exposed arms as he used his big hands to thoroughly massage the dough.

"Very nice," Morgana commented. She was impressed at Jayce's ability to learn so quickly. He really was quite competent, and he obeyed all of Morgana's instructions perfectly. "Now it's time to put them on these," she continued, gesturing to several cookie sheets stacked on the counter.

"Sounds good," said Jayce. "Let's roll!"

Morgana was surprised at herself when she actually smiled at his pun. They worked side-by-side to form the dough into small balls, and Morgana couldn't help but notice how surprisingly nimble his large fingers were as he carefully shaped each cookie and placed it gently on the sheet. After the trays of cookie dough went into the oven, it was time to make the frosting for the cupcakes, and once more, Jayce proved himself to be perfectly adept at following Morgana's recipe. The pair finished whipping up an enormous batch of frosting (strawberry flavored, as Lux had insisted) just as the cupcakes and cookies were ready to be taken out of the oven. Morgana's frosting recipe had a secret ingredient that allowed it to be spread on the warm cupcakes without melting and getting everywhere, so while the second batch baked, the two champions frosted the first batch, and Morgana found that her mood was actually improving. Unfortunately, after they'd finished putting frosting on all of the cupcakes, she realized something, and she wanted to kick herself for not noticing earlier.

"I forgot the sprinkles in my suite," she groaned, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. "I have to go get them now or the frosting will harden before we can put them on. Can I trust you to watch the cupcakes while I'm gone?"

"Uh, sure," said Jayce, visibly surprised. He glanced at the transparent oven door where the cupcakes could be seen baking. "What do I do?"

"In about five minutes, they should be done," Morgana told him. She had already showed him how to perform the toothpick test when the first batch had finished baking. "I'll be back in about ten. Don't do anything with them, just take them out and wait for my return."

"You got it," Jayce said with a confident nod and thumbs-up, and with that, Morgana departed.


End file.
